6.1 I found a form of life that worked for me. It’s a pale version of what life could be, but I saw no other options. I spent days in self loathing and hatred for what I’d become. Only seldom I left my house. When I did the goal was to find criminals to feed on.

2.1 In the morning, grief over what I’d done overcame me. Sahylina didn’t just turn me, she created a horrible monster. I didn’t deserve to be alive, or whatever I should call this existence. How I wanted this pulsating feeling of guilt to go away.

5.1 Guilt tore at me. The scene from my brother’s house played out over and over as a horrible vivid dream. I should have been more humble when we met, and thought about what I’d say. He had no reason to suspect me from the start. I was insecure and panicked. I have to learn control.

1.2 A week had gone by since that horrible incident with Fabia. I spent the evenings and nights with Aulus, losing myself in the music. It felt like life was returning to normal. Twice a day I switched the vinegared pegs in my nose, while it felt awkward it also seemed to work. With the pegs I could keep the hunger at bay, still I felt it growing.

3.1 One thing I never liked about carpentry is the possibility of accidents. I’ve seen it happen. There were times when a worker would get injured, luck willing it would heal with time. But some accidents are so much worse. I’ve seen men loose a finger or two. Had it been me I’d rather have lost an eye. Imagining not being able to play the lyre made me shudder. What I disliked so much was the permanence of those accidents. That finger would never recover, once lost it’s lost forever.

1.1 By any measure known to Gods or men I know that I died. Still, when I came to again it felt like I was dying. My neck ached. Something that should have been blood leaked from that wound to the left below my rib cage. The color of the substance was a few shades too dark. Touching it, was even worse, rubbing it between my fingers it felt closer to olive oil than blood.

My name is Lucius Septimius Firmus, most people don’t call me that though. It’s one of those names that lend itself to specific situations such as when the sun is up and you’re sober. While I don’t by any means dislike my name I would much rather people greet me with a smile or a kiss on the cheek. Some call me The Lyre, other times it’s Singer. Brother or Friend, are my favorites, they’re like titles but of the kind that you earn.

6♦ I was just staring over with another chant when disaster came for me. Leaning on my spear, it sank into a small hollow in the ground and snapped in two when I fell. Hitting the ground I felt a dull pain from my bad leg. It could have been that I was within the Heart of Stone and protected from the worst of pains.

A♥ Wiping my tears from the pain I almost laughed. Looking up I could see it in the distance. Freedom, a set of stairs leading up. I felt a strong urge to smoke. I imagined rays of sun touching my skin. At that moment the pain didn’t seem so bad.

The stairs themselves turned out to be a struggle. Just days back I would have ran up the steps, now I saw them as a puzzle. The easiest way was to sit on each step and face down, then lift myself up one step at a time. The process took a fair bit of time. I expected my pursuer to appear at the bottom of the steps, but I no longer heard them, with some luck they had turned away and left me.

Day 189

8♦ To say that I woke up refreshed, would be to stretch and bend the word far from its original meaning. But I did feel a lot better than yesterday. I didn’t spend any time cleaning the room where I had slept. Instead I took my kerchief and polished the necklace I got from Belgrima along with the helmet of the old dwarven king. When I escape this place I will at least be able to show my people that these artefacts survived.